It has been a while since I have wrote my thoughts out.

Perhaps its laziness or perhaps a fear of who I have been in the past.

But, as I stop to pack a few more things from the closet of my mother's home.

A handful made me smile, and made me feel the need to put my thoughts down somewhere.

A few Polaroids and some old notes from a girl who was once my whole world, but haven't talked to in years.

I wish her nothing but happiness, and I am eternally grateful for the happy memories we shared.

A tiny christmas tree small enough to put on a night stand, I remember a night in college that tree in the center of our dorm sitting and laughing with the man who is to this day my closest friend.

And of course the fresh wound.

My fathers golf clubs.

At first it's the happy memory of me and my father putting a golf ball across the small patch of grass behind his trailer drinking beer and enjoying a cool summer breeze.

Inevitably though any memories of my father return to that day just this past July.

Sitting next to the hospital bed clutching his hand and watching light fade from his eyes.

But, that was yesterday.

Today is a day to pack, I need to return home to the woman with whom I share my bed.

Groceries need bought, chores done, cats fed.

And come Monday work will need done a future of my making is calling me forward to each new day.

So for now I'll simply take these old memories and tuck them away.